


Then the Morning Comes

by zebraljb



Series: Cheesevember 2018 [24]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 21:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: PROMPT - Sunrise (thank you, eggsyobsessed)Harry comes back from Eggsy's wedding, quite depressed over losing the boy he's loved for a long time.  Someone unexpected helps him work through it, and realize what he really wants.





	Then the Morning Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/gifts).



> To my beautiful anarchycox, who has been an idol of mine since I found this fandom, and who literally begged for "some Harcival that I didn't write myself." I hope this is worthy.

THEN THE MORNING COMES

“Do you really have to go?” Eggsy asks sorrowfully, that adorable frown line appearing at the bridge of his nose. “There’s going to be a lovely breakfast tomorrow, and…”

“I am sorry, my dear boy, but duty calls, as you know.” Harry smiles at him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“As if we had a choice,” Tilde says. “Eggsy was insistent that you stand up with him.”

“Well, it was my honor,” Harry says in a bit of a choked voice. “You looked absolutely breathtaking up there,” he says to her, but his eyes are on Eggsy. He kisses her cheeks. “Congratulations, and many happy returns. Enjoy your honeymoon, and if you need any help managing this one…”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to handle him,” she says, smiling prettily. The smile doesn’t go to her eyes. She excuses herself and steps away.

“So. This is it, then.” Harry puts his hands on Eggsy’s shoulders. “I’m so very proud of you, my darling boy. You deserve every inch of happiness.”

“Ain’t like I’m never gonna see ya again, ‘arry. Gonna need a break from all this posh royal bullshit.” Eggsy swallows hard. “I’m scared, ‘arry.”

“Eggsy Unwin, it doesn’t matter if you live on the estates or in a castle. Just be yourself, and everyone else will fall in line.” Harry hugs him, inhaling the scent of him one last time. “And if you need me, day or night, you call. No matter what.”

“I will. I love you, ‘arry.”

Harry draws on every ounce of training when he pulls back, smiles into Eggsy’s eyes, and says, “And I you, my boy.”

 

Harry’s thankful for many things in his life. Right now he’s thankful that the Kingsman jet has a well-stocked bar. Because there’s no way he’s ending this ordeal sober. He pulls the carnation from his lapel and crushes it into the rubbish bin before pouring himself the first of many drinks. There’s no one around to care, anyway.

He knows he never could have admitted his feelings to Eggsy, not if he wanted to keep some sort of relationship with him. The feelings would not have been reciprocated; while Eggsy might go on the male honeypot mission now and then, his heart and body have belonged to Tilde since the day he met her. And Harry knows Eggsy sees Harry as a mentor and father-figure…not as a possible romantic interest. If Harry would have said something, Eggsy would have graciously listened and found some sweet way to let Harry down gently. And then things would have been awkward and Harry would have lost him forever. 

But it didn’t make seeing him marry someone else any easier.

 

By the time the jet lands at the Kingsman manor Harry is pleasantly sloshed. His jacket and waistcoat are unbuttoned and his tie is in his pocket. He’s able to get himself down the steps and across the hangar without too much trouble, although his bed is sounding more inviting by the minute. He greets the few employees who are up and about at this time of night and heads for the lifts.

He almost falls asleep leaning against the wall but jumps to attention as the lift reaches the floor of his suite. He stumbles down the hall, snickering as he thinks about what Tilde’s relatives would think if they saw him now. He knew they’d been whispering about him anyway, wondering who the elderly broken man was standing next to the groom.

Harry reaches his door and enters his passcode. The light stays red. He enters it again. Red. He closes his eyes, opens them, and enters it a third time. Red. “Bloody fucking hell,” he curses, slapping the door in frustration. “Open up, you…”

The door swings open and Harry almost falls through it. “Arthur?”

“Percival,” Harry says in astonishment. “Whatever are you doing in my suite?”

“Well, that would be a good question, sir, but this is MY suite.” Percival leans out the door and points down the hall. “You’re on the opposite side of the floor.”

“What?” Harry slowly looks around. “Oh. Well. I suppose you’re right. My apologies.” He weaves and spins around.

“Arthur.” Percival puts a hand on Harry’s arm, his blue eyes concerned. “Why don’t you come in for a moment?”

“It’s late. I hate to intrude.” Harry takes in Percival’s dressing gown and slippers.

“I was up anyway…learning the new rifle. I can’t quite get it apart quick enough for my taste.” Percival steps aside. “Do come in.”

“Well, thank you.” Arthur allows Percival to gently guide him to a chair. Pieces of a gun are spread out over the table. “This looks intricate.”

“It’s simply a puzzle. I can put it together, but I need to do it faster.” Percival goes to the small table at the side of room and makes Harry a cup of tea. “So…you’re back from the wedding, then?” He hands Harry the tea and motions to Harry’s current state of disarray.

“Yes. I thought everyone at Kingsman was invited.”

“They were, of course. Galahad’s kind that way. But I don’t know him that well, and I had things to do here. I sent an appropriate gift.”

“Of course you did,” Harry says with a grin. Percival is very strict about protocol in all things.

Percival sits down and begins to reassemble the rifle. “So…I take it the food and drink were worth the trip, then?”

“What? Oh.” Harry blushes a bit and looks at his tea. “I might have been a little upset.” 

Percival stops what he’s doing and looks at Harry. “I know, Harry,” he says softly. “It’s part of my job to be observant, and also to assess a situation. You’ve never been shy about your sexual preferences, and you’ve always had a soft spot for Galahad. Add to that the way you’re looking right now…”

“I’m a mess,” Harry says simply. “It’s embarrassing. A gentleman…”

“A gentleman is permitted to have a heart,” Percival interrupts gently. “And it can break.”

“I’ve been enraptured with him since the moment I met him outside that station,” Harry says. “Ridiculous, really. And I’ve known it’s ridiculous the entire time, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about it. It started as more of a physical attraction, but then I got to know him, see the size of his heart. And when I heard about everything he’d done while I was in the States…” Harry sighs. “I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror sometimes, I’m so ashamed.” He moodily stares at the table. “I’m beginning to hate Tuesdays. You know why? Because Eggsy and I always had a pint in the pub on Tuesdays when he wasn’t on a mission. Tuesday is three days away and I’m worried about it. Plus I’m hating a day of the week!”

“Well, I’m happy to see your flair for the dramatic isn’t quenched by a bit of alcohol,” Percival says with a smile. “Harry, you’re a human being. You’re allowed to have a crush.”

“Ridiculous,” Harry slurs. “At my age.”

“There is nothing wrong with giving someone your love and loyalty, Harry, at any age.” Percival snaps the last piece of the gun into place. “I quite understand the idea of misplaced affection and loyalty, although my situation doesn’t have to do with affairs of the heart.” He shrugs. “But you’re tired, and you should get to bed.”

“No.” Harry reaches out and touches Percival’s arm. “I’m not that drunk, and I…I want to hear it.”

“I didn’t propose Roxanne as an agent just to put a bee in Chester’s bonnet.” Percival gets up and prepares his own cup of tea. “Not the way you did with Eggsy.” Harry grins and tips his head in acknowledgment. “I seriously thought she’d be an amazing addition to the table. It was hard to nominate a family member, knowing what we do and what the risks are, but my brother gave his support and there we were. It was one of the hardest decisions I’d ever had to make. As you know, I’m not a boat-rocker. I knew Chester wouldn’t be pleased, and that was very difficult for me. I have always been quite loyal to the position of Arthur, no matter what. It’s my duty as a Kingsman. And at the beginning I was also quite loyal to Chester himself. Hearing him tell me how unhappy he was with my nomination of a woman devastated me.”

“I’m so sorry, Percival,” Harry whispers.

“I’m almost ashamed to admit how much I allowed Chester and his ideals to rule my life. He drew the line, I toed it. He said jump, I asked how high. I…I suppressed my own wants and desires. Literally. Even my personal life was not my own, because my preferences were not something he approved of…so I just stopped having a personal life altogether.” Harry blinks at this new information. “I’m sure that’s impossible for you to understand. You’ve always lived your life on your own terms. But I’ve always put duty before everything else. Which is why I was crushed when the truth came out about Chester and Valentine. At first I couldn’t look Galahad in the eye. He’d killed our king and no one seemed to be upset about it in the slightest. But then I learned the truth, heard what he and Merlin had discovered.”

“I heard you were out of commission for six months,” Harry murmurs. “Is this why?”

Percival nods. “I had to wrap my mind around many things, and completely change my way of thinking. But eventually, day by day, I worked it out and became, I feel, a better agent for it.”

“I’m so sorry you struggled like this, Michael.” 

Percival tilts his head. “Thank you. As I said, it’s not quite the same as having your heart broken, but…”

“No. Betrayed confidence is quite similar to the betrayal of unrequited love.” Harry smiles. “Maybe you should be drinking as well.”

“No, I did my fair share of that. I’m not as charming a drunk as you. I get quite nasty, actually.” 

“I am sorry I intruded upon you.” Harry yawns. “I should get to bed, as you said.”

“I plan on staying up a while. Lay down here,” Percival suggests.

“I’m just down the hall, you know.”

“I know. If I cannot offer my king a place to lay his head, what kind of knight am I?” Percival teases. “Just lay down for a moment. If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll help you to your rooms.”

“Thank you, Percival.” Harry stands and puts a hand on Percival’s shoulder. “This was good for me. It didn’t make it better, but it made it easier.”

“Please do not feel embarrassed about this, Harry. It’s quite normal, to love something and lose it when you didn’t even have it in the first place. And you can talk to me about it any time.” He guides Harry to the bed and helps him remove his shoes.

“Thank you, Michael.” Harry removes his coat and waistcoat and crawls into bed. He watches Percival work on the gun until he drifts off to sleep.

When he awaken hours later, the sun is creeping through the drapes and Percival is stretched out on the sofa. A glass of water and a bottle of paracetamol are on the table. Harry smacks his cottony lips and smiles at the thoughtful gesture. He gathers his things, takes two of the paracetamol, and tiptoes out of the suite.

 

Three days later there’s a knock on Harry’s office door. “Enter,” he calls, up to his ears in paperwork and mission protocols. The loss of their Galahad has affecting more than just Harry and his heart. He doesn’t think he ever realized how many types of missions Eggsy was perfect for. “Oh, hello, Percival. Do come in.” Harry leans back in his chair. 

“I wanted to thank you for your note.” Percival stands ramrod straight in front of Harry’s desk. “It was thoughtful, although quite unnecessary.”

“Percival, please sit down.” Percival obeys. “I needed to let you know how much I appreciated your behavior when I returned from the wedding. I was down, I was inebriated…and I probably would have felt much worse if left to my own devices. You took the time to speak with me, to open your heart about a few things…it meant so much. The note was the least I could do.”

Percival’s steel blue eyes study him for a moment and he blushes. “The note was only one reason I wanted to speak with you, Arthur…Harry,” he corrects himself. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to my home for dinner on Thursday.”

“Dinner? At your home?” 

“Unless you have a prior engagement.”

“No, I’m free,” Harry says faintly. “I’m sorry, this is quite unexpected.”

“Well, you spoke about the way you and Eggsy would spend Tuesdays together. I realize you have a much closer bond with him than you and I ever had, but I also realized that it’s a new Kingsman, and we can all fraternize and enjoy each other’s company, no matter what our rank. I thought we could order in something, have a beer or two.”

“That sounds lovely,” Harry says. 

“I’ll have something delivered. Do you have a preference? Chinese…Italian…Thai…”

“Eggsy hates Thai food,” Harry blurts out. Percival stares at him. “I mean, he’s really the only friend I spent time with, you know…and he hated Thai so we never had it. I love Thai.”

“So do I,” Percival says with a friendly smile. “So Thai it is. How does seven sound?”

“Wonderful,” Harry says, a bit of a weight seeming to fall off his shoulders.

“Excellent. I’m sure you can find my address.”

“I am the head of a spy organization,” Harry says in a haughty tone.

“Until Thursday, then, Arthur.” Percival stands, nods, and leaves the room.

 

“Harry. Excellent. I’m already in a foul mood and now I can take it out on you instead of these bloody therapists,” Merlin growls.

“Ah, Merlin, so good to see you.” Harry falls into the chair by Merlin’s bed. “Rehab hospital agreeing with you, then?”

“They push me to my limit, and then they push harder,” Merlin gripes.

“Just like you when you were training the recruits,” Harry points out. “So you secretly admire the lot of them here.”

“Whatever.” 

“You know you need to strengthen everything before we can look into the prosthetics.”

“Yes, I bloody well know that, Harry.” Merlin fusses with his blankets and Harry helps him arrange them. “How was the wedding?”

“He looked beautiful. I mean, she looked beautiful.”

“Oh, Harry,” Merlin says with a sigh, his voice warming. “I’m so sorry.”

“Was it that obvious, Merlin?”

“It was to me because I know you so well.”

“Percival guessed,” Harry says quietly. “I might have been a bit…inebriated upon my return, and he helped me get myself settled. He told me he watched me and figured it out. Was quite kind about it, actually.”

“Percival is the epitome of a gentleman,” Merlin agrees.

“He’s invited me over for takeaway on Thursday. I think I’ll go.”

“I’m glad. You need friends, Harry. You’ve lived your life hiding behind the name of Galahad, and now Arthur. It’s time Harry gets to live, think about things other than the young boy he cannot have.”

“Thank you, Merlin. These little talks are so inspiring,” Harry says wryly. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“I cannot wait,” Merlin says just as wryly.

 

“Hello, Harry, thank you for coming,” Percival says formally as he opens the door. “Please come in.”

“Thank you for having me.” Harry looks around the immaculate house, a bit smaller than his and not as fussily decorated. “You have a very lovely home.”

“Thank you. I’m not here as often as I’d like, of course.” Percival takes Harry’s jacket and hangs it up. “Come down to the kitchen.” He leads the way down the corridor. “I took the liberty of ordering a few things, so we could mix and match, as it were.”

“Sounds perfect.” Harry smiles at the sight of the table, already set for two with boxes of takeaway in the middle.

Percival offers Harry a seat, pours them each a beer, and then sits down as well. “I haven’t had Thai in ever so long, so I’m glad you decided on it.”

“I want to thank you again for inviting me over, Michael. This is nice. Merlin pointed out to me that I need to have a life as Harry, not just as Arthur, and I realize he’s right.”

“I must admit I had ulterior motives when I asked you over for dinner.” Harry stares at him. “I just…you were so heartbroken about Eggsy and your Tuesday nights. I thought if you had something to look forward with this Thursday, you wouldn’t hate the thought of Tuesdays.”

“Michael,” Harry says softly. “That’s the most thoughtful…thank you. And you’re right. I was looking forward to this, and I quite forgot about Tuesday.”

“Good. Mission successful.” Percival clinks his beer against Harry’s and smiles at him.

Harry honestly doesn’t remember having such a nice time.

 

They get together the next three Thursdays, and on a Wednesday for lunch the next week because Percival’s due out in the field. Harry spends the first and second Thursdays talking out his feelings about Eggsy. He realizes it’s rude, but Percival is just so NICE about it, silently listening as they eat, and then giving an opinion or two. After that, however, Harry finds himself talking…and thinking…about Eggsy less and less. Percival is serious and stoic at times, but he also has a witty sense of humor that makes Harry roar with laughter. He chides himself for not getting to know Percival sooner. He wonders what other friends he’s been missing out on by hiding himself behind the mantle of Arthur.

Percival returns on the second Wednesday and Harry’s shocked at how relieved he is to hear it. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have friends, to worry about them when they’re put in such dangerous positions. Perhaps this is why he’s always been so much of a loner. But he goes into the database and finds that Percival’s been cleared by medical and is on his way home. He also reads that two civilians died during the mission.

He calls Percival, something he normally doesn’t do when an agent returns from the field, but this is different. This is his friend. “Michael...Percival. I’m glad you’re home safely. I read the report. Job well done.”

“I beg to differ, Arthur, but I appreciate the call,” Percival says formally. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to bathe and turn in for the night.”

“Oh. Well, I see. I was just…shall we do Italian tomorrow? My treat, I know a place that…”

“I’m afraid not, Arthur. I’ll see you when I return to HQ in a few days.”

“Very well. Have…have a good evening, Michael.”

“Arthur.” Percival terminates the call and Harry frowns. This isn’t like him, to behave in a way one could only call rude. Percival is never rude. Short, terse, but not rude.

Which is why Harry leaves HQ at noon and goes home to cook the one thing he can cook well. He carefully boxes it up and goes knocking on Percival’s door. He’s shocked when Percival answers it in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless vest. Harry can only stare at the tight biceps and forearm muscles. Of course. Percival’s a sniper. Of course he would have muscles and arms like…that.

“I told you not to come…Arthur,” he tacks on at the last minute.

“I know you did. I asked if I could bring takeaway and you said no. But this isn’t takeaway, I made it, and it’s getting cold, so do invite me in.”

“For God’s sake,” Percival snaps, but he steps aside. Harry smells whiskey.

“Planning on a liquid dinner then? Good. That sounds wonderful.” Harry hurries down the hall and puts his bags on the counter. “May I?” He goes to the liquor cabinet and gets a glass, pouring himself a whiskey and refilling Percival’s. “Guess what happened to me today.”

“Did it involve an innocent man and woman getting shot down on the sidewalk?” Percival snarls.

“No, it did not. But that’s happened to me before, so I’m not dismissing it. I do, however, have some catching up to do, so go ahead and talk.” Harry downs his glass and refills it.

“They were walking home from Mass, Arthur. Husband and wife, been married four years. They were walking home from church, probably planning on what to have for dinner. They walked into a nightmare. I didn’t shoot them, I know I didn’t…but they were shot. He…he hit the ground first and she tumbled on top of him.” Percival shoots back the whiskey. “At least they died together, right? They never had to live one fucking MINUTE without each other. Because they’re not living at all. Not anymore.”

“And you could have done what?” Harry refills his glass again.

“Directed the shots elsewhere, yelled for them to move, something!” Percival yells, slamming his glass down. “You’re Arthur, you tell me!”

“NOTHING. That’s what you could have done. You couldn’t draw attention to yourself. You’ve been in this position dozens of times. You’re helpless…you have to watch it happen. I know.” Harry looks at him out of his one good eye. “I slaughtered a church full of people, remember?”

“You weren’t in control.”

“Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing, and I liked it,” Harry snaps. “Do we REALLY want to go there?”

“So…what was your big event today that drove you to drink?” Percival says. “I can’t wait to hear how it measures up to MY day.”

“I got the thank you note from Tilde and Eggsy,” Harry says simply. “They…well…she, because it wasn’t his handwriting…thanked me for my participation in the ceremony and for my gift. He didn’t even put a note. Just signed his name.”

“I have a question for you, Harry.” Percival finally pushes the bottle away, almost knocking it over. “When you first met him and saw all the rainbows and Disney creatures around him, what was your number one feeling?”

“Lust. Attraction.”

“And after V-Day, when you went after Poppy?”

“The same, but more than that. Pride. Appreciation for his growth, for his skills.”

“And now? Really think before you answer? What do you feel for that child?”

Harry does stop and think. “Loss,” he says quietly. “I lost my best friend. I finally found someone who understood me, who lived my life and was able to love me as a friend in spite of everything I’ve done in the name of Kingsman.”

“I can understand that,” Percival says. He points at Harry, finger waving around a bit. “But you can find other friends. Jesus Christ, Harry, you’re not a fucking five-year-old. You can make friends.” Harry looks at him and bursts into laughter. Percival grins as well, a sideways smile that charms Harry. 

“Do you know why I came here tonight?” Harry asks.

“Because you enjoy doing the opposite of what people tell you to do?”

“Because you were rude to me. And you are NEVER rude. It concerned me and I decided to come over.” He points at the counter. “I made chicken parmesan and pasta.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Percival say quietly. “Only a true friend would read between the lines like that.” He stands up and puts his glass in the sink, pouring himself a glass of water. “But I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet. I told you I’m a mean drunk.” He sits back down. “Back to the whole lust and attraction thing. I respect Galahad, but the boy isn’t even thirty yet. Do you really think he’d be any sort of a good fuck?”

Harry spits his whiskey back into the glass. “Christ!” He gasps.

“Think about it, Harry. What the hell did YOU know how to do when you were in your twenties. I know it’s thinking pretty far back…”

“Fuck off.”

“…but do your best. My twenties were not as far back as yours, and I clearly remember wanting one thing. To get off. I know he’s not into men, but there’s really only one place to put your cock. He’d find it, I’m certain, but he’d use it and be done, and he’d probably only do it out of sympathy for you. And Harry Hart does not do pity fucks.” Percival drinks some of his water. “This generation has no respect for foreplay.”

“Jesus, Michael. What the hell?”

“I do not deny the boy has a body of an Adonis. I’ve seen him in the gym working out. Those thighs…sweet Jesus I could write sonnets. But you’re a MAN. An adult. You deserve someone that knows how to worship you appropriately.” He points a finger at Harry again. “I want you to promise me that you will not even THINK about a man under the age of thirty-five. And if you do, you call me, and I’ll talk you down. Deal?”

“I’m afraid to say no.”

“Good. Because I use rifles for a living and I won’t cut you any slack.” Percival jumps to his feet. “Now this smells heavenly and I’m ready to stop drinking and start eating.”

“Michael.” Harry stands as well, still trying to wrap his head around this new Percival. “Please know that the mission…it wasn’t your fault. You behaved exactly as a Kingsman should. I’m proud of you.” He pauses, then wraps his arms around Percival to hug him. 

“Thank you, Harry,” Percival whispers, leaning his head on Harry’s shoulder for a moment. “But I mean what I said about my rifle. No one under the age of thirty-five. Ever.”

 

“Your birthday is next Wednesday.”

“I can read a calendar, Percival, but yes. It is.” Harry morosely pokes at his pho. “Fifty-eight. How revolting.”

“Think of all the things you’ve seen in your time, Harry. Men have walked on the moon. We’ve discovered cassette tapes and cds and dvds and the internet. Porn available twenty-four seven, Harry.”

“You know, I think I liked you better before you were drunk that night. You had much more of a filter, then.”

“I didn’t realize how much you needed a friend before that. Plus you had your Eggsy epiphany, so…” Percival actually winks at him.

Harry’s come to look forward to Thursdays, counting the days between each dinner with Percival. He will always consider Eggsy a dear friend, and they correspond regularly via email and text, but with Percival it’s different. They’re closer in age, and they’ve seen the world in a similar manner. They were raised the same, came into Kingsman the same way, and both were betrayed by Chester King.

“And why are you bringing up my birthday?”

“Come over on Wednesday instead of Thursday. I might even bake you a cake, if you sign off on that new ammunition I want.”

“That is a waste of money.”

“Your suits are a waste of money.”

“Blasphemy!” Harry shouts, throwing a summer roll at him.

But he still shows up at Percival’s house on Wednesday in grey trousers and a new black jumper. He knocks on the door and it takes Percival longer than usual to open it. Finally it swings open. “Happy birthday, Harry. Do come in.”

“Thank you, Michael. I…”

“SURPRISE!” Harry is deafened by the noise coming from Percival’s front parlor. He sees six other knights, a few support staff, and to his surprise, Merlin is in a wheelchair by the fireplace, a warm plaid blanket over his legs. 

“I…oh my word,” Harry says weakly. “Percival…”

“I figured it was high time you saw how many friends you do have,” Percival murmurs as he hugs him. “I have a small house, so I only invited those I observed you talking to most.”

“You…you’re amazing.” Harry turns around. “Hello, everyone. I’m…I’m shocked.”

“It isn’t easy surprising a spy,” Percival says. “But you’re usually fairly oblivious at HQ, so it was easier than expected.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Merlin calls out.

Harry makes the rounds of the room, saying hello to people and thanking them for coming. He finishes with Merlin, kneeling next to him. “It’s so good to see you out, Merlin.”

“Only for you, old friend. I had to bribe three nurses and two doctors, but here I am. Don’t even have a curfew, since they trust Percival more than anyone on the planet.” Merlin looks into Harry’s eyes. “He’s a good man, Harry.”

“Yes, I know,” Harry says, unsure why he’s blushing. 

Someone shoves a drink into his hand and he sips at is as he wanders out to the kitchen and finds snacks and finger foods covering the large table. A beautiful cake sits on the counter. He stares at it as he hears a roar from the other room. He chuckles. He’d never figured on a Kingsman party getting out of hand. He hopes Percival’s home has thick walls.

“Happy birthday, ‘arry.”

Harry slowly turns around, unable to believe his ears. Eggsy stands in front of him, smiling broadly. “Eg…Eggsy?” Harry’s mouth drops open. He opens his arms and Eggsy pulls him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Got tha invite from Percival an’ moved everythin’ around…wasn’t miss this fer tha fuckin’ world.” Eggsy doesn’t release him. “Miss ya, ‘arry. Miss ya so fuckin’ much. Makin’ all sorts of friends an’ all, but they ain’t you.”

“Yes, it’s important to make friends,” Harry says, slowly pulling away. “Dear boy. I cannot believe you’re here.”

“Just for tonight…gotta head back first thing tomorrow. Gonna crash at Mum’s. Percival sent me tha invite, an’ he even sent a letter ta Tilde beggin’ her ta let me come. Like I need her permission,” he scoffs, but it’s obvious the idea delights him. “Probably woulda sent a letter ta her parents if need be.”

“It’s…it’s so good to see you.” 

“We’ll catch up, all right, ‘arry? Lemme go make fun of Merlin for a bit.” Eggsy smiles at him again and goes back to the living room.

Harry slowly follows him and walks over to Percival. “You…thank you.”

“I figured it was the gift you’d prefer over everything else, although I did get you a charming crystal vase for your sideboard,” Percival tells him.

Harry watches Eggsy for a long moment, then turns to Percival. “Remember when you told me that Kingsman under Chester King didn’t allow you to have a personal life, not the way you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” Percival says slowly.

“Remember how you said that you had to hide your preferences, because it wasn’t his way?”

“Yes.” Percival flushes slightly.

“Well, I’m Arthur.”

“Yes, Harry, I know.”

“I’m Arthur, and I’m informing you that Kingsman is no longer run in that manner. Kingsman now is about freedom to be the best knight you can. And to be the best knight, you must be very happy in your personal life…free to do whatever you choose, whatever strikes your fancy. I just thought you should know that.”

Percival stares at him and Harry can see the exact moment the light bulb goes off. “Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate that information, and will act upon it accordingly.”

“Good.”

“If you’d be so kind as to put your drink down?”

Harry barely gets the cup on the small table before Percival’s cupping Harry’s face in his hands and kisses him. He kisses like he shoots, focused and lethal. One of Harry’s hands grabs onto Percival’s shirt for dear life while the other rests at Percival’s hip. He hears Eggsy call out, “YES, ‘arry. Fuck yeah!” He feels Percival smile against his lips and he grins back.

 

“Mmm…what an incredible birthday gift,” Harry mumbles into Percival’s pillow.

Percival plants a line of kisses up Harry’s spine. “The sun’s coming up. It’s most definitely no longer your birthday.”

“I’m fifty-eight and I stayed up the entire night?”

“I might have had something to do with that,” Percival says proudly.

Harry rolls over in his arms. “So smug.” He kisses up Percival’s throat to his ear. “Not very gentlemanly.”

“I think most of what we’ve been doing the last…six or seven hours hasn’t been very gentlemanly.”

“Quite.” Harry pulls him in for a filthy kiss. “Best present I’ve ever received.”

“The gift that keeps on giving, I hope…for a very long time.” Percival pulls back to look at him. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want. As long as you wish to give it to me.” Harry reaches up and strokes some hair off Percival’s forehead.

Percival kisses his nose. “Not for a while. You’ve worn me out.”

“Sleep now, then.” Harry rolls onto his side and Percival spoons up behind him. 

“Sweet dreams.” Percival kisses behind Harry’s ear and falls asleep with his face still buried in the back of Harry’s neck. Harry smiles and burrows closer, clutching at Percival’s arms around him as he drifts off as well.


End file.
